


Past and Future

by sword_and_lance



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Gen, but it hasn't stopped me before and won't stop me now, probably tweaking the finer details of canon to my own ends again lol, suicidal thoughts mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28840491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sword_and_lance/pseuds/sword_and_lance
Summary: Sumeragi pays an old friend a visit.
Relationships: Kati Mannequin & Sumeragi Lee Noriega
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Past and Future

**Author's Note:**

> Lord help me I am back on my bullshit
> 
> Another thing I've ported over from tumblr! And I'll reiterate: some mention of suicidal thoughts present, if you're sensitive to that kind of thing. Takes place sometime post-canon, pre-movie; I am probably fudging some details in the name of setup. :P

The exact last thing Kati had expected, coming back to the house that day, was to find _Leesa_ sitting on her doorstep.

In all honesty, she kind of _froze_ when she realized the other woman was there; the way she was just standing and staring was less than fitting for an accomplished tactical forecaster, but–

( _That was her friend_ )

“Hey, Kati.”

( _That was her enemy_ )

The chill of the wind went completely unnoticed.

( _…But that was still her friend_ )

“L-Leesa?”

That earned her an idle wave.

( _She should report this–_ )

“Hope you don’t mind me dropping in.” 

( _But she wouldn’t. Couldn’t._ )

“You know you’re not supposed to be here, Kujo,” she finally hissed, but she advanced past her to get to the door. She didn’t think that she had enough to fear from her to turn her back on her, and thankfully, that was rewarded as Kujo just stood and folded her arms (and little else).

“Yeah, well, that isn’t the first time, is it?” She laughed lightly–the familiarity of the sound made Kati’s breath hitch a moment _it had been so long_ –and leaned against the wall of the house. “I _did_ just want to talk, Kati.”

And Kati wanted her to _stay_ , to really answer for everything– _why_ being the foremost–though she wasn’t quite so shaken to outright admit to it. (She wasn’t the Iron Lady for nothing.) “Just…at least come in. I’m not having this discussion outside where anyone can hear.” She only sent Kujo a glance, but that was enough; Kujo straightened up and blinked and even leaned back _just_ slightly. “How did you even get here?”

That enigmatic half-smile came right back. “Ways.”

“No, really.”

“I have to keep _some_ secrets, Kati. Keeps things interesting.”

She really should have expected that, but she didn’t find it any less _unnerving_ for it. Celestial Being had always had _far_ more resources than they should have–and that included knowledge–but…

“Well,” Kujo started, casually flinging herself into an armchair and glancing around, “I’m not sure if military regulations still apply in here, or if your taste in decorating just never changed.”

But Kati’s jaw remained hard-set as she stiffly settled into her own seat, across from the other woman. “We’re not here to talk about my personal life, Kujo.” The flinty tone did little to actually _deter_ Kujo, but she had the courtesy to at least sit back up a bit more. 

“Yeah, you’re right about that. Even if I wish it was.”

_Even if Kati herself kind of wished that, too._ More than she let on to anyone, sometimes even herself. (They _had_ been close once, and she trusted exceedingly few people with that.) “So, out with it.”

And thankfully, Kujo got right to the point. “I never thought you to be the type to tolerate something like the A-LAWS. Much less _join_ them.”

So that was what this was about. She had been expecting that, the second Kujo implied this wasn’t just a social visit.

“So. Why?”

It didn’t mean she wasn’t a bit taken aback by the question, anyway.

“…Asks the person who joined a terrorist organization?” She wasn’t going to let _that_ one slide, and her irritation shot through briefly with satisfaction when Leesa winced. Though that was…rapidly replaced with something that wasn’t quite guilt but something close enough to it, so she kept going. “But you asked a question and I’m going to answer it. If it hadn’t been me, it would have been someone who would have gotten it _wrong_.”

Leesa frowned and just stared her down, and Kati took the hint enough to keep going. “I’m not an _idiot_. I know what big alliances of countries who have no real check to their powers _do_ , and it doesn’t take someone multiple semesters of military history courses to realize it either. _You_ know that as well as I do. And you also know what kind of choices they give people that they _really_ want to do something for them–”

“So you had no choice, is what you’re trying to tell me?” The disgust wasn’t quite as well-hidden as Leesa was likely hoping it was, but Kati just let out a _tch_ of annoyance at the interruption.

“I wasn’t _done_. If that had been all, I wouldn’t have bothered. Given the… _quality_ of the people they kept using, with only a few exceptions, I wouldn’t have had that much of a problem.” Even though Lindt had long since died– _a pity_ , she would have enjoyed watching him squirm some more under the inquiries–his was the first face that came to mind, on that front. “You might remember I certainly didn’t after I defected and turned against them.”

And clearly Leesa couldn’t quite see where the conversation was going to turn, judging by the slower response. “…Yes. I do.”

(Not that the turn in subject didn’t bring a faint _stab_ of a reminder of Smirnov– _had_ he _lived that, it might have been different–_ but talking about the one officer she had actually quite respected wasn’t going to help here.)

“You also saw what they did even _with_ me there.”

Now Leesa wasn’t quite looking at her.

“And you didn’t see what they would have gone for if I hadn’t _told them_ in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t going to tolerate it.” She leaned forward, slightly. “And I only had that authority because I had gone out of my way to make myself as close to indispensable as I could. I could have just told them no, that I wasn’t going to directly participate in their oversight-less special force…but if it wasn’t someone with standards leading at least some of them, it would have been someone _without_ them. My hands still wouldn’t have been any more clean for having done it.”

The more she had been talking, the more the other woman was drumming her fingers on the chair arm, and it was then that Kati knew she had made a good point. Or at least one that wasn’t too easily argued against. So she pressed on and shot a question right back at her, the argumentative flow all too familiar even after all this time. “ _You_ were the one who had an option to not do what you did. You didn’t have to run and make me think you were dead for years. You could have _stayed_.”

The word cracked on her despite herself. Still, she mastered herself and finished. “So it’s my turn to ask _why_ , Leesa.”

A silence passed between them that stretched to discomforting levels. It sat on them like a living weight until Kati was half-convinced they were going to suffocate under it. But it finally shattered when Leesa…laughed. A short little strangled sound, but one nonetheless.

“Nothing…quite as befitting a forecaster as that, I’m afraid. You weren’t…too far off, thinking that’s what happened to me. Maybe I even _tried_.”

Swallowing became a bit of an effort and Kati stayed stock still, her mind gone almost blank. Almost. ( _Did you fail her, Kati? She couldn’t even talk about that with you and just ran away instead–_ )

“But I didn’t. They came to find _me_. And I know you always just…” Leesa blinked for a few moments. “…Thought it was a bit stupid, to think we could _stop_ war. You were always more grounded and thought we should just focus on _reducing_ casualties because people were never going to stop trying to hurt and kill each other over the most ridiculous things. And maybe you’re right. But…I don’t think humanity’s that irredeemable. Even if we need to _make_ some of humanity be more fair.”

A pause. Then a much quieter addition.

“…He would have wanted that.”

Kati only belatedly realized she was grabbing her own chair’s arms enough for her hands to start aching in protest, but she just looked down and squeezed her eyes shut. ( _Didn’t it matter you were going to fight me in the process?_ some desperate and, yes, kind of hurt little voice whispered. _Couldn’t you have not run away from me? Couldn’t we have at least talked about what happened?_ )

But did any of it matter when it was all in the past, where all she could do was watch it hurt them all and could change _nothing_ about it. 

“I don’t think you’re right, no.” No amount of being swamped with her own emotions could capsize her own cold logical convictions. ( _Was it an advantage in a forecaster or a terrible fault in a human being?_ ) “And I’m not going to stop facing off against your organization, if they decide to come back. Even if you’re there. I don’t _want to_ , but I will.”

Another more resigned chuckle. “It’s okay, Kati. I assumed.”

The sound of her getting up finally did get the tactician to open her eyes again, and that gave her barely a split second of warning before she was, quite suddenly, hugged. A not uncomfortable angle for it, and her heart absolutely skittered for a split second.

“What…?” The question slipped out of her before she could stop it, but she made no move to get away, either. ( _She didn’t want to._ Even if she really should.)

“And I owe _you_ an apology, anyway. For all of this.”

_Oh._

Kati, for a moment, just let her do it and stayed frozen in place. Whether her thoughts had done the same or were running too _fast_ for her to really get a grip on them.

( _She should tell her to get out but she couldn’t but she should but couldn’t_ )

Leesa tipped her head a bit to rest against hers.

(… _She really couldn’t._ )

Something a bit too heavy to be a sigh escaped her, and only _now_ did she lean into the other woman. The warmth and familiarity of it set the tension to draining from her shoulders–though not all the way–and she even dared to snake her hand up to Leesa’s arm.

_At least you’re not dead._

_At least you want to understand._

_At least you don’t hate me for what happened._

But none of it, she could actually say.

Then again, maybe she didn’t need to.

( _I never hated you, either._ )

It was good enough for the two of them, or it would have to be.


End file.
